The Assistant
by Jaxx-in-a-box
Summary: Draco Malfoy needs a way to stay out of Azkaban, and his assistant, who happens to be Hermione Granger, is his only ticket. But Hermione won't make it easy for him.
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes: Just letting you all know; the story is based around the fact that everyone had their first born children about a year after graduating Hogwarts in their 8th year (seeing as they went back to complete it… Like Hermione would let Harry and Ron NOT finish school.). So the start of this story is very much when Hermione is about 31 years old. So… yeah, okay enjoy!

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Chapter 1

Hermione Granger was running late. So very late. She was sure that she was going to get a massive "lecture" about her tardiness, as well as the usual backhanded compliment about her appearance. She had a quick glance over herself in the mirror near the fireplace and decided that what she had was as best as it could get. Tying her hair up in a messy bun, she made her way into the fireplace and clearly said out loud, "Malfoy Industries" before throwing Floo powder down.

_Why in the world am I wearing heels, _she scolded herself as she struggled out of the fireplace and into her office. Conjuring a pot of tea and two cups, she set them down, collected the necessary parchments she had left the night before, cast a "_Wingardium Leviosa" _at the tea set and ordered them to follower her brisk pace to another office. She didn't wait to knock, opening the door with a free hand to reveal a familiar blond man inside who was currently just stepping out of his own fireplace.

The tea set made its way to the desk as Draco Malfoy set his coat on the coat hanger next to his desk. He had not acknowledged Hermione yet, but she knew he was bound to say something. She shuffled on the spot as she watched him sit at his desk, pick up one of the teacups and take a languid sip from it. A moment later, his deep voice broke the silence.

"You're late."

She scowled. "It's still only five minutes to."

He still hadn't made eye contact with her, seemingly more concerned about what was going on in the _Daily Prophet_. "Which is ten minutes later than usual."

Rolling her eyes, she made her way over to the guest chair and set the parchments onto the desk, disregarding all the other paperwork that was underneath. She picked up the second cup of tea and took a small sip— still too hot.

"Rose kept me up last night."

At this, Draco finally looked up, left eyebrow raised in interest. "Oh? And how is she fairing in her third year at Hogwarts? Scorpius can't seem to stop talking about how frustrated he is with being beaten again at Potions by your little Rose." He almost sounded amused, but of course, his voice was his usual drawl.

Hermione sighed. "Those two, honestly… She's doing fine, although she's not taking the divorce really well. I guess we should have told her when she was home for the holidays, but back then we were still very undecided—"

"Spare me the details," Draco interjected as he waved his hand dismissively, looking back to the paper. Hermione huffed, but decided not to argue for the moment. It was still too early and her head wasn't in the right place yet.

After graduating from Hogwarts in their eighth year, Hermione had several choices; she could have followed Ron and Harry's footsteps and became an Auror, worked for the Ministry (Merlin only knew how many times they had begged), or taken up the teaching position McGonagall had offered her. For a time she was teaching Charms at Hogwarts, but not long after she became pregnant with Rose, so she had to retire temporarily through the pregnancy.

When Rose was born, Ron was eager to make a second child. While Hermione thought it was sweet, she had to make a stand. She wanted a career. She wanted to be independent. She didn't want to be cooped up in the house all day to look after five or more children. And she had told Ron exactly that.

To say that Ron was not pleased would be an understatement. He had given excuses like, _"We need to start a big family! It's the Weasley Tradition!" _and, "_This is us rebuilding the World! Starting the future of Wizarding-kind on a positive note!"._ And while Hermione thought it was an appealing ideal, it just wasn't one that she was comfortable with. Unfortunately for her, the Charms teacher that had 'temporarily' replaced her while she was pregnant had wanted to keep the job, and it would still be a while before Hermione could return to Hogwarts full time. It wouldn't be fair to McGonagall to have her wait on Hermione.

So for a few months, Hermione was stuck at home with Rose, which suited Ron just fine. His ideas were very traditional, and Hermione began to resent them. She supposed that was the beginning of the end for them; clearly their priorities weren't the same anymore. She would shrug away from his touch at night and go days without speaking to him. She soon realized that the only thing holding them together was Rose, and as the years went on, she came to accept that it wasn't enough anymore.

When Rose began going to Hogwarts, Hermione was left with nothing to do anymore. She would wrack her brilliant brain for hours on end; visiting libraries to re-read books, go to museums, visit family and friends, went for long jogs… The list went on.

It seemed as though the only person who understood her restlessness was none other than Ginny Weasley. One day, she had come to Hermione's house at lunch with a piece of paper in her hands, looking excited. Hermione would have never have guessed in a million years that what Ginny was holding was a job ad for a position at Malfoy Industries, which was well known for creating and distributing the best potions in the world.

"Ginny, are you insane? If I set one foot into that building, I'd probably be hexed in twenty different ways."

The red-headed woman rolled her eyes as she stuffed the piece of paper into Hermione's hand. "You know that Malfoy's gotten over his blood prejudices now that his father's died. He's always in _Witch Weekly, _photographed with all sorts of women; Pureblood, Half blood _and_ Muggle-born. Besides, I heard he pays loads! And why wouldn't he hire you? You're brilliant at Potions."

And that was how she was convinced (sort of) to apply for the job. She hadn't even needed to go to an interview; as soon as she sent an application in, an owl dropped off a letter into her kitchen that stated that she had gotten the job. In fact, it wasn't even the job she'd applied for (she had originally applied for a position in the research department), but Draco Malfoy's very own Personal Assistant. She glared at the letter as she thought, _Of course he would. Probably fired his current assistant, too… 'Keep your enemies close' is probably what he's thinking…_

She was grateful that she had the job; not only did it mean that she was constantly challenged with over-seeing quite a few factions in the company which kept her mentally stimulated, but the pay was incredible. There were only two downfalls of the job.

Working as Draco Malfoy's personal assistant also meant putting up with his annoying habit of picking on her.

And Ron's disregard of her own wants and needs.

He had been completely and utterly against it, clearly still not over their petty fights with Malfoy back in school. "What is he playing at?!" Ron had said once he found out, stomping into the living room. Hermione sighed and placed her hands on her hips.

"Look Ron, this has nothing to do with Malfoy—"

"It has _everything_ to do with that ferret!"

"I need to _work_, Ron! I can't be cooped up in a house all day long—!"

"You go out, don't you? What's the difference—"

By then, Hermione had left the room, refusing to let her tears fall. It was two years after that they (meaning Hermione) had decided to call it quits. Hermione had left the house to Ron, feeling guilty that it had been her decision to split from him, and picked an apartment in Muggle London. She was quite happy in her own space, and now that Rose was at school, there was no need for Hermione to be cooped up at home.

She made weekly visits to the Potter residence; of course, keeping in mind that Ron may or may not be there too. She made sure that Ginny warned her beforehand. Surprisingly, Ginny and Harry were quite understanding when it came down to the divorce, encouraging her to take as much time and space away from him as she needed. They were obviously sad that they couple had split, but after years of public spats and prolonged silences that spanned over weeks, they had come to terms with what was best.

The only thing that Ginny and her husband didn't agree on was Hermione working for Malfoy. Harry had begged her to come work as an Auror, but Ginny had been very insistent on Hermione staying exactly where she was. "You won't be getting paid as much as you are if you go work in the Auror department. Besides, you can handle Malfoy, right?" Ginny had said earnestly during one of their weekend lunches.

Harry looked at a loss as he gazed at his wife. "But its still _Malfoy_. That git probably gets Hermione to do all the work _he's_ supposed to be doing—"

"I certainly do not let him trample all over me like that, Harry," Hermione replied indignantly. "He can be a lazy prat sometimes but I keep him in line. Besides, that's part of the job, I suppose. And he's far from stupid; he clearly knows how to run a business—"

"Not to mention he's always been amazingly handsome—"

"Ginny!"

"What? It's the truth! You don't hear Hermione complaining about it," Ginny gave Hermione an innocent smile.

Hermione blushed furiously but decided not to reply. She would have to blind not to have noticed how attractive Malfoy was. Certainly, back at Hogwarts, he was a rather good-looking boy but his thin frame only seemed to pronounce his pointy face back then. Not to mention, his attitude made him far less attractive.

But now that they were all older, he had grown into his features; he still had a relatively pointy face, but his jaw was chiseled and his frame was far less gangly. He retained his aristocratic demeanor, but it changed from looking like he was gazing at others with disdain to a cool glare. Clearly years of playing Quidditch had done well for his physique; he was lean, but not too lean. He was at least a head and half taller than Hermione, although she was quite the petite witch. He clearly was his father's son, but bits of Narcissa's graceful features had settled into his.

And when he wasn't being the enormous prick he was, he could be quite charming. Not that Hermione had ever been the recipient of those charms; he more or less still picked fights with her, but instead of making hateful jabs, it stemmed from familiarity.

He had looked up from the _Daily Prophet _and was now looking at the paper work she had put on his desk. "So I take it these are the reports?" he said, almost sounding bored.

She sighed. "Yes, the ones from last week. We also have a new offer from a company that wants us to develop a potion to help with short-term memory loss."

"How much are they offering?"

"Apparently slightly less than the company standard, but I think—"

"Then get them to go elsewhere."

Hermione shot a look at him. "Malfoy, I really think this could be a good investment. Elderly wizards—"

"Are not my concern. My business is."

He could be such an ass sometimes. "Just meet with them. I think they're really onto something."

He considered her for a moment. "You meet with them."

"What? But—"

"I'm far too busy—"

"With what? Your newest fling?"

Malfoy looked at her questioningly, and then presented her with his trademark smirk. "Why Granger, I didn't know you cared."

She blushed, covering it up by feigning a cough. "I don't. I'm just pointing out that your priorities are—"

"Right where they should be," he finished for her, suddenly getting up from his seat. "I have a meeting with at the Ministry regarding my _on-going_ hearing."

Hermione had completely forgotten about that. Ever since the war, the Ministry had placed the Malfoys under house arrest until the elder Malfoys had passed away, leaving Malfoy-junior with the responsibilities. The only reason why he had escaped going to Azkaban was simply because of Harry Potter's testimony, but apparently it hadn't been enough for the Wizenmgot. The trial had been going on for so long, it was ridiculous.

"So they're finally making a decision?"

He shrugged. "Something of the sort. They want me to testify for myself as to why I think I deserve to stay away from Azkaban. Provide evidence, all that shit. All a bunch of idiots, if you ask me. It as if nothing I've done for the Wizarding community for the past 10 years means nothing."

"When's the trial?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"And why haven't you told me about this?"

"I'm not obligated to tell you, am I?"

She huffed. Of course he wasn't. But it would be nice to be told that she would be working on her own tomorrow. He took her silence as an answer and dismissed her. As she made her way to leave the office, she noted the flask he had taken out of his breast pocket.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She was going to kill him.

How dare he use her as an excuse to stay away from Azkaban!? She stared at the _Daily Prophet_ in disbelief; there, splattered on the from page, was her very own face next to Malfoy's.

_**A Love to Defy All Odds: How the infamous Malfoy heir fell in love with the Muggle Born Heroine**_

Oh, she knew exactly what had happened at the trial. She didn't need to read the article.

Which is exactly why she had stormed into his office. As always, he was putting his coat up with the _Daily Prophet_ tucked underneath his left arm. Without looking up, his voice filled the room. "So I take it you've read the paper." It wasn't a question.

"Malfoy, what is Merlin's name—"

"It was the easiest way to—"

"I can't believe you! I'm not a scapegoat—"

"You'll be reimbursed when all of this is over—"

"I don't care about the money!"

"What do you want then?"

She stopped, not really comprehending his words. She didn't want or need anything from him. This wouldn't benefit her in any way. She watched him as he made himself comfy sitting at his desk. He was watching her intently too, waiting for a response. When she didn't give him one, he continued.

"Look, I didn't have a choice. A lot of Ministry officials still believe that I haven't changed; that I'm still living as my parents did, regardless of how I've contributed to Wizarding society, not to mention the women I've dated… When they began questioning me, you popped up. They asked about our working relationship and before I knew it I, sort of, blurted it out," he looked uncomfortable as he mentioned the last bit of information.

_At least he has the decency to be a little embarrassed_, Hermione thought.

"What if they're right… What if you've been keeping me around just for this particular situation?" Clearly, she was skeptical. He smiled ruefully at her.

"I hired you because I know your big brain would be beneficial for the company, despite what you may think. I hadn't even thought about using you like that."

She lifted an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. Malfoy's eyes followed the movement, but instantly snapped back to her face.

"It wouldn't be _unlike_ you to think that way. You _are_ a Slytherin, after all."

"True," he complied, "but in this instance, you have to believe that I'm telling the truth. I'm doing this for the sake of my company; my father's legacy. You may not think highly of him, and for good reason, but you can't deny that he was a good businessman. He worked for the ministry _and_ kept this business afloat. You can't deny that that's to be respected. I can't let the demons of my family's past determine the outcome of my future. And I have to think about Scorpius, too. The Greengrasses want nothing to do with him anymore, so this family is now all he has."

Hermione sighed and dropped her hands to her sides, resigning. "What's done is done, I guess… How is this going to work?"

Malfoy's skin paled a little. "The Ministry will be keeping an eye out on us for three months, so—"

"You want us to go out publically as a couple?"

"Well, technically we already have."

"You know what I mean! _Physically_? Go on dates, be pictured together? Oh no, what am I going to tell Harry—"

"You can't tell anyone about our arrangement."

She hadn't realized how deep he'd gotten her into his problems. Was she really going to do this? "Fine, then I want a raise."

"You have it."

"And a three month holiday to make up for time lost,"

"Wait—"

"All expenses paid."

He scowled at her. "Fine. After all this is over. Anything_ else_?"

She thought for a moment before replying. "I get to break it off with you when the time comes."

His face suddenly had a tingle of pink. "No fucking way. I have a reputation to uphold—"

"Yes, and a _fine_ reputation that is; the great womanizer, the charismatic, charming, sexy Draco Malfoy, who can seduce any woman—" she stopped when she realized that he was leering at her with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Why Granger, I had no idea you thought of me that way. '_Sexy'_, am I? '_Charming'_?"

"I was being sarcastic—"

"And _any_ woman, Granger? Does that happen to include you?"

Hermione spluttered, blushing bright red. "You better sort this out, Malfoy," she warned as she made her way towards the door, "or you can say goodbye to the Malfoy name," she stopped, realization dawning on her. "Wait, what do we do now? When does the Ministry start… _snooping around_?"

He leaned back on his chair, looking thoughtful. He seemed to be enjoying her discomfort. _Bastard._ "Well, we have a meeting with a Ministry Official at eleven today to confirm my statement."

"We?"

"Who do you think they need confirmation from?"

She started to feel anxious. Hermione was a terrible liar, and she didn't hesitate to tell him that. He just smirked at her. "Don't worry, I've got you covered."

"For some reason, hearing that from you isn't very reassuring."

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_Pretty short chapter. Promise I'm working on a longer one. Thanks for the follows, favs and reviews! The more reviews, the faster my uploads hehe ;)_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note**__: the clothing mentioned later on in this chapter is based on the links provided in the footnotes at the bottom. Just thought I'd let you know in case you'd like to actually see what's being described. Now, onwards with the story!_

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Chapter 3

Howard Copperbait, the Ministry Official sent to interview both Hermione and Draco, was not a handsome man, nor was he very tall. Hermione fleetingly thought about the possibility that he could perhaps be half goblin as she watched him settle his paperwork onto Draco's desk. He took out a quill, quickly licked the tip then dipped it into the inkpot, then set his black eyes onto the two of them with scrutiny. While Hermione looked tense with her back straight and her hands gripping her knees quite painfully, Draco was lounging in his chair looking almost bored. She envied his blasé attitude.

Howard's voice was raspy, startling Hermione slightly. "So how long have you been working for Mr. Malfoy?" he asked her curtly. Her hands involuntarily gripped her knees even tighter.

"Almost four years now."

"And in that time, you divorced with Mr. Ronald Weasley." This was not a question. He studied her carefully, and she shrank under his beady gaze.

"I-I don't see how that is any—"

"I assure you, Ms. Granger, that everything I ask you is in relevance to Mr. Malfoy's trial. Nothing that is said in this interview will become public knowledge, if that is what you are concerned about. Not that it makes any difference; being a celebrated war hero means you are always in the public eye. Your relationship with Mr. Weasley is not a secret. But like I said, nothing within the vicinity of this room will become public knowledge if it isn't already."

She squirmed in her seat for a bit, straightening out her black pencil skirt even though there was no need to. "I understand, Mr. Copperbait… Yes, our divorce was within two years of working for Malfoy Industries."

He seemed happy with her answer. "So will it be acceptable to assume that a major reason for leaving Mr. Weasley was because of your choice to work for Mr. Malfoy?"

She blushed under his scrutinizing gaze. "Well, I suppose—"

"And would it be safe to assume that your relationship with Mr. Malfoy began before you decided to leave Mr. Weasley, hence triggering the divorce?" He interjected, writing down notes.

Her blush deepened. "Mr. Copperbait, I really don't think—"

She felt so affronted by Howard's accusations that she had completely forgotten Draco was in the room, startled when he finally decided to speak up. "Our relationship began six months after their divorce, if you must know. I had not thought it would be appropriate to pursue her until she was ready. And I assure you, Mr. Copperbait, _Hermione—" _Hermione gave him a long side glance at the use of her first name; it sounded so foreign on his tongue— "was not interested in me before that. We kept it professional; she, my assistant and I, her boss. Although she'd grown on me while she worked for me, I never pushed her into anything or hinted at it while she remained married. I'm not that sort of man," he drawled, not even meeting the Ministry official's perusing eyes. He seemed more interested in the state of his nails.

Hermione was grateful for the ease in which Draco could lie. She could never have pulled off that story, no matter how hard she tried. She nodded in agreement, afraid to open her mouth.

"Has this relationship hindered the business in any way?"

Draco smirked and finally looked up at the shorter man, grey eyes piercing into black. "If anything, it's made the business increasingly more profitable. Not to mention, the environment has become a much more enjoyable place to work in." he turned to look at her with the smirk still plastered onto his face, and slowly raised a challenging eyebrow at her. She fought the urge to shove her middle finger up at him—not that it would make much sense to him, anyway. She could almost imagine his quizzical look at the gesture, and that was enough to amuse her to the point where she was not as annoyed as she could have been.

Howard, on the other hand, looked slightly embarrassed for the first time since he had arrived. He had clearly interpreted their interaction the wrong way. He cleared his throat loudly—it was then that Hermione had realized that she had been looking at Draco for a little too long and decided to turn her attention back to Howard. Draco made an amused noise, which only made her slightly more annoyed.

"So what are the future plans?"

"W…What do you mean, Mr. Copperbait?"

"In terms of your relationship. Are you both serious about each other? Could marriage be foreseen in the future?"

"It's certainly a bit early to be thinking of that," she prickled, but then stopped herself from saying anything else. In the Wizarding world, it was normal to be wed within a year or two, especially within the world of older pureblood families. Howard Copperbait would know that, and if she said anything else, he'd catch on and she'd have screwed this up. Still, she couldn't help but feel as though this interview was more like something a reporter from the _Daily Prophet_ would instigate.

Luckily, Draco added onto her reply. "Hermione is not accustom to the ideals of pureblood society, so marriage is not something we've thought about so far. I'm willing to be lenient and understanding of that. We've decided to take things slow, so that she doesn't have to be caught up in a world she has no experience in. At least, not yet, anyway."

Howard seemed satisfied with this answer as he finished up writing whatever he was on the parchments in front of him. He physically relaxed, but his eyes were still stern as he looked at them. "As you both know, for the next three months, the Ministry will be keeping tabs on you both to confirm your statements. I will personally be visiting you both weekly for assessment. Your wands will be traced for the total of three months, so we will know where both of you are at all times—"

_What?! _Hermione's mind was reeling. "That's an invasion of privacy—"

Howard's eyes narrowed at her interruption, but he pressed on. "—just in case we decide to do a surprise check in. As you are aware, Mr. Malfoy's case is a very serious one, and if any of your testimonies are false or do not add up, you will both be reprimanded; Mr. Malfoy, you will immediately be sent to Azkaban and Ms. Granger, your wand will be taken from you and destroyed. As harsh as that sounds, we will not tolerate being made fools of," he warned as he got up and collected his paperwork. "We'll be in touch."

And with that, he made his way out of the office.

* * *

The day just kept getting better.

Hermione had barely been home for more than a minute before Harry, Ginny and even Ron made their way into her apartment; Harry looked concerned, Ginny looked amused, and Ron looked livid. She could tell that this was going to be quite a long night.

"Hermione, what's this I hear about you and _Malfoy—"_

"What the _fuck_, Hermione—!"

"—thought you hated each other, now—"

"—barely been divorced a year—!"

"—would have at least _told_ us sooner—"

"—what will Rose think?!"

"Merlin, will you both _shutup!_" Hermione yelled on top of the two men, throwing her hands into the air exasperatedly. Both of them had their mouths hanging open, not one eyelid blinked. Ginny—who still looked amused—made her way to the couch. Hermione took a second to compose herself before she continued. "Ronald, what I do and who I decide to spend time with is none of your concern now. I am entitled to see whomever I wish. Harry, I honestly don't know how to explain myself; yes I should have mentioned it sooner, but look at it this way. Would you have reacted differently even if I had told you myself?"

Harry had the decency to look sheepish. "Well, I'd like to think so… But that's not the point—"

Hermione sighed loudly. "It's precisely the point! You would have reacted the same way," she was pretty surprised at how convincing she sounded, "You despise Malfoy. This wasn't supposed to go public—"

"Were you _ever _going to tell us?"

The question had Hermione stumped. Of course she never was—the relationship wasn't even real! "Well, yes, eventually… in my own time. It's still all relatively new—"

It was Ron's turn to interrupt. "Is this the reason why you decided to leave me? For _Malfoy_? I knew there had to be a better reason—"

"Ron, you know why we're divorced," her voice was tight, "and it had nothing to do with my relationship with Mal—Draco. He's really not the same person he was back when we—"

"Oh, come off it, Hermione. Malfoy will always be the same prick he is. I understand that having you work for him is good for his company, but to date you? His parents would be rolling in their graves."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she gritted out, narrowing her eyes on the Ron. He shuffled under her stare, but refused to back down.

"It's fucking _Malfoy_ we're talking about. Since when does he date Muggleborns?"

"I'll have you know that he's not as prejudice as he once was. He's dated many women from different backgrounds over the past few years—"

"Which further proves my point! He's a womanizer, Hermione; for all we know, he could be screwing someone behind your back even now—"

"Ronald Weasley, I will not stand here and hear you insult me and my choices," she cut him off as calmly as possible. She couldn't believe that she was defending Draco Malfoy right now, but it seemed to be appropriate. "If he is, then it's yet to be proved. But for now, you both have to accept that yes, I am in a relationship with him. There's nothing you can say that will change my mind."

That seemed to shut them into a stunned silence, with Harry looking at her more with curiosity than anger now. Ginny remained silent, taking in the scene in front of her. But Ron looked livid, and (Hermione noticed with a heavy heart) hurt. Ron would always be someone important in her life, but she was no longer in love with him. She obviously still cared for him, but only as a friend. He, on the other hand, clearly had not accepted that yet.

"Now if you don't mind, I need sleep. I'm exhausted from all these interrogations in one day, and have work early tomorrow. " She turned her gaze to Ginny, who had a little knowing smile on her face. Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I'll see you two sometime soon for dinner." She added.

"Sure, Hermione. We'll see you soon."

* * *

Over the course of three weeks, Howard Copperbait kept his promise to keep tabs on both Hermione and Draco, interviewing them once a week to see how things were coming along. Draco insisted on going on lunch dates in public places to keep appearances up, which seemed to encourage the tabloids to talk about their "relationship". For three weeks, Hermione went out for lunch with him every day, and they had dinner three or four times per week. "_Make sure to be look well-dressed, Granger; I do have an image to uphold. It's insulting to be seen courting someone who refuses to wear an evening dress when I've clearly made the effort to look good," _He had warned before a particular "dinner date", to which she scowled back at him.

How dare he insinuate that she wasn't well dressed? She may not have been a girly person, but she at least liked to look presentable. Corporate Muggle clothes were more her style; maybe that's what he had been insinuating to. So she asked about it, but he shook his head with that infuriatingly cocky smirk on his face. "_No, that's not it. In fact, I've come to appreciate Muggle clothing; it's far more flattering for the female figure." _his voice had taken a lower tone, one that Hermione couldn't help suppress a shiver to, "_I just meant, you could at least look like you're being treated out somewhere nice. What you've been wearing isn't particularly interesting. But then again, it's not as though you know any better; Weasel's probably never taken you anywhere that had any class… There _are _other genres of clothing out there, Granger. If you'd like, I could have someone send you something to wear for the night," _he had suggested.

She refused, but he had sent something anyway. It was in a black box that was sitting by her dresser in her bedroom when she had gone home for the day. The note was fairly blunt, something along the lines of, _'You're welcome. D.M.'._

For a good hour, she refused to open it as she rummaged through her wardrobe for something to wear for the night. _I have plenty of interesting clothes,_ she thought as she continued to throw clothes out of her closet and onto her bed, viciously pulling things off the shelves, but the more she looked, the more her resolve weakened. She soon found herself sitting on her bed, frustrated, staring at the black box. After a good minute or two, she made her way over to it, running her hands over the soft white ribbon that kept the lid in place.

_One look couldn't hurt…_She thought as she slowly pulled the ribbon off. Immediately she regretted her decision. He had sent a gown that was a dark navy blue colour—almost black—that had a plunging neckline and criss-crossed at the back. It was cinched in at the waist, and then flowed out downwards the floor. It was simple, but eye-catching, and Hermione couldn't help but feel incredibly in awe of it. She couldn't imagine how much it cost him, not that it mattered; this _was_ Draco Malfoy. He had enough money to feed all of Britain for years. _That's probably an overstatement, _she thought as she made the decision to put it on.

It fit like a glove, clinging to her dainty frame perfectly. She felt a tinge of magic making the dress more accommodating for her hips and the swell of her breasts, not to mention her height. As she gazed into her mirror, she became painfully aware of how much the dress revealed. By nature, Hermione was a modest woman, and this dress accentuated all her womanly curves, instantly making her feel like a completely different person. The dress had somehow even lifted her breasts up so that they looked perkier than usual. But she really couldn't deny how sexy it had made her feel to be in it. Sexy and classy; words that Hermione Granger would never have associated herself with.

With a flick of her wand, her hair went up into a lose up-do, with a few curls framing her face. She followed that with minimal makeup; a few coats of mascara and a blue-red lipstick was enough. Simple diamond earrings she always wore sufficed, along with sensible heels that were neither too high nor too low was enough to complete her outfit. She felt a bit stupid for doing so much to her appearance, but before she could change her mind, she heard her Floo network roar to life, knowing that it was Draco who had arrived.

He had looked over her appreciatively (she too gave him a quick glance at his attire; impeccable grey suit with a black shirt), then Apparated them both to a fancy French restaurant who knew the Malfoy name well. They were seated in a private room overlooking Diagon Alley (Draco had not even needed to request it. Apparently it was just protocol). They only really discussed work topics, rarely engaging in anything else, so she was used to this routine now. She continued to remind herself throughout the evening that this was all for show, making an effort to laugh at his remarks and look thoroughly intrigued by him. He continued to be himself, though, and she soon began to beret herself for trying so hard.

She wasn't the person on trial, _he _was! He could at least make an effort.

Hermione caught him stealing glances at her though, watching her with a certain amount of curiosity in his eyes. He somehow maintained the bored look as well though—she had to admit, that was somewhat impressive. _At least he's not looking at me with disgust_, she thought, noting how his eyes would drift to her chest quickly, then, as if remembering the situation, would look away. She suddenly felt very aware of his sneaky glances, and decidedly focused on her meal.

It was only a few minutes later that his voice broke the silence. "So your parents… what do they do?"

Hermione almost choked on the chicken. "I-I'm sorry—what?"

He gave her a slightly annoyed look. "I ask about your parents professions. I remember you mentioning they have a business together, but I don't recall what they do exactly."

She recovered from her moment of surprise, dabbing a napkin delicately to the left corner of her lip before answering. "They're dentists. They sort of like Healers, but they specialize in teeth." Hermione replied, not entirely sure he would understand. Why was he suddenly interested in this kind of stuff anyway?

He nodded and looked as though he was truly interested in understanding. Then suddenly, he looked amused, coughing a little as he chuckled. She raised an eyebrow. "What's seems to be amusing?"

"It's just… the irony."

Furrowing her eyebrows together, she asked, "Irony…?"

He took a bite out of his meal before replying. "Well, it's because of me that you had your teeth fixed back when we were at Hogwarts. You have to admit, your chompers were quite frightening."

"They were _not_ as bad as you make them out to be."

"How did your parents react when you came home with perfect teeth?"

She huffed, averting her eyes away from him. "They weren't particularly happy about me using magic to fix them… Said that it could have been done the Muggle way. They got over it eventually."

He leaned in slightly before he spoke. "And what do they think about you being in the Wizarding world?"

"What's with the interrogation, Malfoy?"

"We're dating. We should know things about each other."

"We're not—"

"Uh-uh," he interrupted, "you know the rules, _darling_." Sarcasm practically oozed out of his mouth.

_Right… we're in public, _she thought ruefully. There could have been reporters someone in the distance, trying to get a scoop. She decided to get back on topic, and he decided that he had neglected his glass of red for too long. "My parents… Their opinion about the Wizarding world has taken quite a negative turn since they regained their memories. They understood why I had to _obliviate _them, but of course they were angry. But they've gotten over it now. Took a while, but they did eventually. Anyway, wouldn't it be easier if you started out with simpler things to ask? Like, maybe… Asking about what my favourite drink is? Or Favourite colour?"

He smirked. "But I already know the answer to those silly things."

Skeptically, Hermione arched an eyebrow at him, tempted to cross her arms over her chest. "Malfoy, we may work together, but you know _nothing_ about me," was her dry response. That irritatingly confident smirk was still set on his face.

"That's where you're wrong, Granger. We've worked together long enough to know each other pretty well. Not to mention we went to school together."

"We hated each other back then."

"That still doesn't change the fact that I knew you. I had to find other creative ways to pick on you, you know. Analyzing the Golden Trio was a necessity back then."

"Way to spend your time productively."

He shrugged. "It seems to work in my favour now, so I don't regret it." He sounded way too cocky for Hermione's liking.

"Prove it then; what's my favourite colour?"

"Purple. Or specifically speaking, lilac."

Well, bugger. "How would you know that?"

"I told you, I've done my research. And besides, you like to wear the colour a lot."

"How about my favourite drink?"

"You have a thing for green tea."

"Favourite book?"

"_Hogwarts: A History._"

"Favourite food?"

"Mexican, although I can't figure out why." He took another sip of his wine, and before Hermione could think of another question, he carried on. "You hate birds, you hate flying, you watch things called "tv shows" at home that make you somewhat moody the next day depending on the outcome of the particular—what's the word? Ah—_episode_, you're terribly protective of your daughter, you hate romance novels, you like gold over silver, and when you lie your left eye blinks more than your right."

Hermione was left flabbergasted. She'd never discussed any of her personal life with him. "Not creepy at all, Malfoy."

"_Know thy enemy._"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"You know, you probably know more about me than you realize." He said flippantly. It dawned on her that she really did. She knew what he liked to drink every morning, and knew that he alternated between black and grey suits every second day. She knew that he hated having milk in his coffee, and she knew that when he was frustrated, the right side of his mouth pulled down a little further than his left. _That's not creepy to know _at all, she thought.

His voice broke her train of thought. "How often do you see your parents? Are you seeing them any time soon?"

The odd questions just kept coming. "I was supposed to stay with them over the Christmas holidays next month, but considering the situation…"

"Let's go."

It took a few moments for Hermione to process what he'd just said. It felt surreal that he was catching her off-guard like that quite often now; it was certainly not in her nature to be left speechless. Her mouth hung slightly open as she stared at Draco, who continued to look amused.

She barely made an audible noise. "What do you mean, let's go…?"

"I mean, let's visit your parents."

"But your trial—"

"Let me put it this way," he leaned in so that his forearms were resting on the table, "it'll be a chance for you to spend time with your family over the Christmas holidays, and it'll look good for my trial to be going with you. Win-win situation."

She nodded slowly; she was quite certain there was a catch. She voiced her thoughts out loud, and he chuckled.

"There's no catch. This is it. I'm not particularly fond of you, nor am I fond of the situation or the idea of going into the Muggle world to spend—wait, how long did you say?"

"Uhh… three weeks?"

He frowned at that. "Hmm. seems as though I'll be letting Scorpius stay at Hogwarts for Christmas this year."

"Rose decided to stay with the Weasley's this year to be with her cousins. I had her last year, so I'm not too put out. Visiting my parents this year will be enough." She replied, and then immediately regretting that she had essentially given him an okay to accompany her to visit her parents.

He nodded, considering her words. "Well, that settles it then. I'm to meet your parents." And with that, he downed the rest of the red wine. Hermione now wished she had a whole bottle of red wine rather than her one glass.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

_**(without spaces)**_

_Hermione's Dress: www. polyvore cgi/ img-thing?. out= jpg&size= l&tid= 76027047_

_Draco's Suit: chicstories wp-content / uploads / 2008 / 07 / clip-image0061 .jpg_


	4. Chapter 4

Hello again! Sorry for the intense delay; I've been caught up with uni assignments and it's totally draining me… And I _may_ or may not have been catching up on television shows (-cough- GoT –cough- OUAT –cough- Orange is the New Black -cough-). In any case, enjoy the next installment!

Edit: Thank you for the reviews, follows and favs! They really do make me want to write more. If I get more than 10 reviews on this chapter, I'll update much sooner ;)

* * *

Chapter 4

Ginny Potter leaned over her kitchen counter, teacup in both hands, staring at Hermione with a knowing (almost condescending) smile. As much as it annoyed Hermione, she had better things to worry about. She'd decided to visit the Potter home a week before she was scheduled to go see her parents, to confide in Ginny about her… _situation_.

Ginny, on the other hand, hadn't even batted an eyelid at the idea. In fact, she was quite enthusiastic about it, which was more than could be said about Harry's reaction; as soon as she began talking about it, he'd lifted his hands up in resignation and left the room, muttering "not my area of expertise". She understood though; Malfoy was still very much a touchy topic for Harry.

As for Ginny… not so much.

"I don't see what the problem is. You're dating, right? So wouldn't it be right to introduce him to your parents?"

Hermione sighed and set her own teacup down. "But it's too soon! Ron and I have barely been divorced for a year and suddenly I'm dating the guy who I've complained to them about for years! I haven't even told them that I work for him."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hermione, there are no rules about how long you have to wait before you start dating after a divorce. They would understand that. Also, I'm fairly sure Malfoy can charm his way out of any awkward situations; he _is_ a Slytherin, after all. Certainly worked with you didn't it? And besides, if you feel as though it's too soon to introduce them, why start dating?"

Oh how Hermione wished she could just tell Ginny the truth! "I don't know, it just sort of… _happened_. I didn't plan for it."

"Bet Malfoy did."

"Ginny!" Hermione admonished.

"What? Oh come on. Boys pick on girls who they like, and he's been doing that since the moment you guys met… more so with you that anyone else, really. There were plenty of Muggleborns at Hogwarts, but for some reason, he'd always go out of his way to be particularly nasty to you."

Hermione sighed. "It's because I'm friends with Harry."

Ginny's lip quirk up on the right side, amused. "I really don't think so."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione took a languid sip from her tea before replying. "Malfoy would laugh at your silly accusations."

Suddenly Ginny looked confused. "Why do you still call him 'Malfoy'?"

Hermione shrugged, trying to feign casualness when internally, she was berating herself for not realizing how weird it would be to be calling your romantic partner by their surname still. "Familiarity, I guess…?" _And because we're not actually dating,_ she mentally added on.

Ginny seemed to be okay with that answer though. "Look, I'm sure it'll be fine. And Rose will get used to it over time—"

"Rose can't know; she's still upset over the divorce!"

"She's going to find out eventually, if she hasn't already."

Hermione stopped herself from spilling everything out. Ginny was right; it was just surprising that Rose hadn't contacted her sooner about it. No doubt she would have seen it all over the tabloids. As would Scorpius. Hermione mentally cringed.

"I really don't want to deal with that at the moment, so I'm just glad she hasn't contacted me about it yet."

"But she will, and when she does, you'll have a lot of explaining to do."

"I know."

* * *

Portkeying into the Muggle world always excited Hermione. After spending so much time in the Wizarding world, it was always nice to get a break from it all. It was different coming home where she lived in Muggle London; had expressed how eager they were to see her and it was more of a "no man's land" to her, so it didn't really count. It had been a while since she visited her parents, and they had expressed how eager they were to see her meet "the new boyfriend". She still hadn't managed to tell them who it was exactly, which now in hindsight, was a bad idea. She should have at least warned them.

_No turning back now,_ she thought as she stepped out of the Floo network into Malfoy Manor with her luggage in hand. Draco was already waiting for her, looking fairly impatient.

"You're late. Is this to become a habit?" He sounded annoyed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I'm a minute late. Relax, the Portkey won't be ready for another three."

The Portkey was a small glass cup that was already in the center of the room.

"Are you sure you want to do this? I know how you don't like going into the Muggle world, Malfoy."

"I don't really have a choice now, do I? We've already informed Copperwait that we're both going. And I'm prepared for the worst; who knows what kind of hovel you grew up in? Besides, Scorpius insists on staying at Hogwarts with his friends this year. I assume it's about the yearly "Slytherin After Party"—well, "Hogwarts After Party", I should say. I don't know what McGonagall was thinking with this "uniting of the Houses" shit."

Hermione raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Rose changed her mind last-minute to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas this year, too. She owled me yesterday morning about it… sounds suspicious. "

Draco smirked at her. "If she's anything like her mother, I'm sure there's nothing to be afraid of. She'll probably be holing herself up in the Library the entire time."

"That's what I'm afraid of though, she's nothing like me."

Draco looked amused and was about to reply, right before the glass cup in the middle of the room began to glow.

"Well, are you ready?"

He held his hand out to her as they stepped closer to the cup. She took it hesitantly; his hands were callous, but delicate at the same time, she mused briefly. "As ready as I'll ever be."

And with that said, they both touched the cup with their free hands.

* * *

The alleyway they landed on was adjacent a quiet, quaint street that seemed to be the main road. The shops surrounding them were all just about to open. As they stepped onto the main street, Hermione sighed happily. Draco, on the other hand, was looking around with curiosity. She was glad it wasn't distaste.

"come on, we have to find a taxi."

Draco frowned at her. "A what?"

But Hermione was already hailing one from the street that had to do a u-turn to get on the same side as them. "A taxi, Malfoy," she said as she beckoned him to follow her. "Muggle transport."

The taxi stopped in front of them, opening the boot for their luggage. Hermione made her way to the boot as Draco stood where he was, looking at the taxi with the utmost apprehension. The taxi driver came out and greeted them. "Where are we off to, then?" he seemed to ask Draco. The Wizard narrowed his eyes at him, but spoke to Hermione instead as she made her way over to grab his luggage.

"I'm not getting into that… that… _contraption._"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she made her way to the boot. Thank goodness it was charmed so that it was as light as air. "Just go along with it. It's only a five-minute ride."

"No."

"Then you can go back. I'll just tell Copperwait that things didn't work out and that you're still a prejudice—" but before she could finish, he was entering the taxi, but not without a scowl set on his face.

Smiling triumphantly, she made her way into the taxi as well, and gave directions to the taxi driver.

* * *

"Granger."

"…"

"Granger!"

Hermione snapped out it as she turned her head towards Draco she had been watching the town go by her window, completely forgetting that Draco was there. "What?"

"Your name."

"Huh?"

He looked irritated. "Your surname. It's almost on every shop in this town. You'd have thought you would have mentioned it once or twice."

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly, turning her head back to the window as the taxi made a right turn. "My family made some investments over the years."

Draco continued to glare at her, and she tried very hard not to look back.

Not until the taxi turn into a small dirt road that let to a large wooden gate that had security cameras on each post did Draco stop glaring at her. The taxi driver stopped the car so that Hermione's window was directly next to the intercom.

She pressed the small black button and waited for a few seconds. Before long, there was a static noise coming from the intercom, and she had to fight the urge to snigger as she heard Draco shuffle in his seat. "Yes?" A female voice came through.

"Mum, it's me."

There was an excited squeal before the female voice replied. "Hermione! You're finally here—dear, Hermione's home! Come in, sweetheart!"

The wooden gates turned out to be electronic, sliding apart for the taxi to drive through. As they drove, Hermione snuck a glance at Draco, who looked a bit impressed at the sight out the window; the driveway was filled with small beige pebbles that crunched underneath the wheels, lined by pink and white rose shrubbery that led into the front driveway with a water fountain in the middle before a large three story villa made from large warm beige sand stone. The entrance was a double door made of thick mahogany that had three horizontal glass panels on each side. To add to it, the large land was the perfect shade of grass green, and that was only the front of the house.

The taxi driver made a low whistle. "Fancy digs you have, miss. If I had known you lived here, I would have charged double!" he joked, looking impressed as he sounded. Hermione smiled politely, even though he couldn't see.

"It's my parents house."

Draco's head whipped back in her direction to scowl at her, and she flinched. What was he so upset about, anyway?! But he continued to say nothing, and after a few awkward seconds, he turned his head away from her to look at the house again. Hermione let out a breath of relief and made her way out of the taxi.

The front doors of the house opened as Draco made his way out as well. Mr. and Mrs. Granger came out, smiling brightly at their daughter whom they enveloped into a big hug.

"Oh we've missed you so much!" Mrs. Granger sounded teary.

"Good to see you guys too. I've missed you both," replied Hermione as she struggled to free herself from their grasp.

Mr. Granger's eyes settled on Draco was the hug was over, suddenly looking stern. Hermione internally groaned.

"Mum, dad, this is Draco Malfoy, my… uh, _boyfriend_," she muttered as she motioned to the blond. Suddenly Mr. Granger's expression darkened.

"Draco Malfoy… Isn't he the one who bullied you relentlessly for years?"

Draco suddenly had his hand around Hermione's waist with the most charming smile she'd ever seen on his face; her heart skipped a beat. He truly was handsome… in a manipulative, snarky, arrogant kind of way. He made a gesture to shake Mr. Granger's hand as he spoke.

"I've been spending a good few years trying to make it up to her for all that. I was a downright nightmare, and she was never afraid to point that out and put me in my place. I guess it sort of grew on me, and now look at us," he said as he gave Hermione the same charming grin, but she noticed there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. _Git_, she thought. "Pleased to meet you both." Draco added smoothly. All the while, Mr. Granger still hadn't taken his offer to shake hands, continuing to stare at Draco with suspicion.

Luckily, Mrs. Granger stepped in and took his hand in place of her husband. "Pleased to meet you as well, Mr. Malfoy—"

"Draco, please." Draco said as he shook her hand, the same grin still plastered on his face.

The smile on Mrs. Granger's face was warm and genuine, and soon Hermione was scared that she might fall for Draco's charms. She made a mental note to disparage her mother's idea about him later.

Draco then excused himself and followed Mr. Granger to the boot of the taxi to gather their luggage, leaving Hermione and her mother to head into the house.

"He's quite the handsome man," her mother said offhandedly.

"I guess…"

"What do you mean, 'I guess'? When you told us about him as a child, I envisioned him to be a big ugly boy with terrible acne, beady eyes and a horrible personality."

Hermione smirked. "You've just met him; give it a couple more minutes and you'll see the horrible personality come through."

Mrs. Granger gasped. "Hermione, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you didn't like him, which doesn't make any sense because you're together. That's no way to speak about your partner," she admonished, but there was a hint of playfulness in her voice. "Personally, I wouldn't mind as long as he kept looking the way he does. You've got to dig your claws into that one, sweetheart!"

"Mum!"

"What? He's a good-looking young man. If I was your age and not married, I'd have a crack at him."

Hermione groaned, then suddenly stopped as Draco and her father came in with the luggage. Hermione blushed furiously; she was very sure that Draco had heard her mother, if his smirk was anything to go by.

Mr. Granger made his way towards the stairs, taking the luggage from Draco as well. "Hermione, you could have told me you'd made these much lighter. He didn't have to help," her father said, shooting a glare at Draco. Draco looked as though he was pretending not to see. "In any case, I'll meet you three in the sun room. Your mother's prepared breakfast there." And with that, he made his way up the grand staircase.

Then Mrs. Granger led them to the back of the house where the sunroom was located.

* * *

"So, how did this relationship come to be? Given your history, this is quite a surprise, Mrs. Granger asked as she delicately wiped the side of her mouth. The four of them were sitting around a small round dining table that was situated near the window that overlooked the vast backyard. The sun illuminated the bright room, gleaming off the white china on the table.

Hermione, who had been eating a piece of toast, made a choking sound—clearly unable to answer. Draco, who was sitting next to her, put his free hand on the small of her back in an attempt at comfort as he spoke. "We've been working together for a couple of years. I guess it all just chalks down to having to spend so much time together. She grew on me," he drawled as he rubbed her back in small circles— her flesh tingling where he rubbed, becoming increasingly embarrassed.

But she nodded in agreement anyway as Mrs. Granger smiled at them. Mr. Granger lifted an eyebrow slowly. "Hermione's never mentioned working with you," he addressed Draco.

"Dad—"

"How's Rosie taking the news?" Her mother interrupted as she placed a stern hand on her husband's knee.

"I haven't been able to talk to her in person about it yet, but—"

"And how does Ronald feel about this?" Mr. Granger interrupted his daughter. Honestly, she was getting tired of people talking over her. She gave him a stern look.

"What Ron thinks in no concern of mine. Rose is old enough to understand the intricacies of divorce. And I'm sure the same could be said for Scorpius," she said as she looked to Draco. He looked amused, which further annoyed her.

Her mother's eyebrows shot up. "Who's Scorpius?"

"My son."

"Oh!" the older woman exclaimed excitedly. Mr. Granger was still not warming up, unfortunately.

"So you're also a divorcee?"

Draco nodded. "My ex-wife and I had many _conflicting views_ about how a marriage is supposed to be. It was arranged anyway."

"Is that common in the Wizarding world?"

Draco gave a non-committal shrug as he reach for his teacup. "It is among the Purebl—_older families._" he corrected himself, decidedly shutting up by sipping from his cup. Hermione was grateful that he stopped when he did; her parents (specifically speaking, her father) were clearly not happy with the couple. It would be a nightmare for Draco's old discriminating ways to be brought up in a more direct manner. He was obviously conscious of it.

"How've you both been?" Hermione asked her parents, and thus removing the spotlight from Draco and herself.

Her parents continued on about how the extended family was, their holiday back to Australia earlier in June, and the family business. Draco seemed to perk up when Mr. Granger spoke of his business ventures. "... and Mr. Williams seems to be happy with it now," Mr. Granger finished.

"So I take it that you family owns most of the businesses in this town," Draco decided that this was the best time to join the conversation. Mr. Granger looked curiously over at the blond.

"Yes... Our family's been here for several generations, so naturally we've expanded. My wife and I are dentists by trade, but my family has always had a knack for dipping their hands into business. We have quite an expansive collection of subsidiary businesses."

"Hermione's never mentioned it to me, surprisingly. And she knows just how much I love running a business," Draco said lightly, but Hermione saw right through it; he was still very annoyed. Although about what, she couldn't figure out. It wasn't like she owed him an explanation!

But now her father was actually interested in having a decent conversation with Draco, it seemed. "You know about business, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco smirked. "I'm currently running my own family's company."

And thus started a good chat about their similar tastes, goals and business strategy as Hermione and her mother observed. It last a good twenty minutes, and it seemed as though Mr. Granger was seeing Draco in a new light. "I'm not surprised that Hermione hasn't brought it up with you; she's never been interested in contributing to the family business... Then again, I suppose she belongs to a different world now. We're still very proud of her, despite our conflicting priorities. Though, I _had _hoped..." Mr. Granger sounded disappointed.

Hermione sighed. "Dad, you know Jamie's more than happy to take it up," she reminded him.

"Still, it's such a shame. Your cousins not as bright as you are," her father replied. _That's true,_ she thought as she laughed lightly in response.

"Speaking of cousins, will they be coming for Christmas?"

Mrs. Granger clasped her hands excitedly. "Yes! They've been so excited to see you!"

"We've invited the Stormbrooke's this year as well," her father added in a very business-like manner. Hermione paled.

"Then Felix will be here too?"

"Who's Felix?" Draco drawled. Hermione was about to answer, but Mr. Granger thought it would be best to answer the blond himself.

"Felix Stormbrooke is the son of one of our business partners—very good lad. It's such a shame that he never had the chance to date our Hermione; he's always been keen to."

"Robert!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed angrily, but her husband looked unaffected. In fact, he was watching Draco, probably looking for a reaction to assess. Luckily, Hermione thought, her relationship with Draco was a farce and he wasn't interested in her that was at all, so of course he wouldn't rise to the challenge—

"Guess I lucked out, then."

Or, maybe she was wrong.

She looked over at the blond man, astonished. His clenched knuckles were whiter than usual, and his face had paled. There was also a forced smile on his face that looked terribly uncomfortable. Was he... _jealous?_

_No, it's just an act,_ she rationalized quickly, _he's just good at playing the part..._

The subject was quickly changed when Mrs. Granger interrupted the glaring contest between the two men, and soon breakfast was over. Hermione offered to help her mother clean up, but the older woman shooed her away to go unpack with Draco—who had made his own way to the bedroom according to the directions Hermione gave him.

When she arrived in her old bedroom, she found Draco smirking at the wall that had old pictures hanging. "Amusing, is it?" she said as she made her way over to him. He shrugged.

"It's nostalgic. This is the Granger I remember loving to hate," he replied, motioning to a particular photo of her; it was the photo her parents had taken of her on the day she first made her way to Hogwarts.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing's changed, Malfoy," she said as she walked towards her luggage. He made no comment.

Her room was fairly large with cream coloured walls that had photos hung up. She was never the type for gaudy-stereotypical teenage decoration. And besides, she was barely home, so nothing had changed much. Her queen-sized bed was covered with black beddings and white pillows that had red trimmings, colour-coordinating with the black furniture. There was a cream furry mat in between the full bookshelf and the floor of the bed, and next to the bookshelf was her desk that had a new computer. She looked at it curiously, reminding herself to ask her parents about where it had come from.

She really did miss her family— the only thing missing was Rose, who was instead replaced with—

"So, we're sharing a bed."

"I-I'm sorry?"

"Well, they've put all our luggage in the same room, so I assume they think we'll be sleeping together."

Hermione, who had been in the middle of unpacking, froze. She hadn't even thought about it. "U-Uh... you could sleep in the spare room," she offered, but he shook his head as he made his way over to the bed, making himself comfortable just sitting at the foot of it.

"Wouldn't that be suspicious?" _Shit_.

She sighed and ran a hand over her head to smooth out her hair. "Then I can go sleep there."

"Doesn't make a difference, Granger. Bottom line is, we're stuck."

"Sleep on the floor, then."

Draco looked appalled. "I will not sleep on your—"

"But I _refuse_ to sleep in the same bed as you!"

"Then _you_ sleep on the floor—"

"It's _my_ bed!"

Draco frowned. "Look, I promise I won't do anything. It's not like I want to," he said as he rolled his eyes, but then a sly smirk spread slowly across his face. "Unless you're interested."

She flushed as she picked up one of her cardigans and threw it at his face. Unfortunately though, he caught it in time. _Damn his fast reaction time_, she thought ruefully.

"I want nothing of the sort, Malfoy."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said as he began to inspect his nails. "So you're fine with sleeping in the same bed then?"

She scowled at him, refusing to meet his triumphant gaze. "It's not like we have a choice."

He grinned.


End file.
